Steppenwolf

After a long day at work, microwaving my dinner back to an edible 3-digit temperature, feeding animals, playing ponies with the josinator, and changing bed sheets, it's time to pour myself a drink from that big bottle of turpentine, and listen to Steppenwolf.

Before you roll your eyes so hard your retinas detach, i know you know i love Steppenwolf. I don't have to defend it because i am one of those poor pathetic individuals who knows Hoyt Axton not for his great songs, but for his role as the dad in Gremlins. Maybe, just maybe, John Kay can make me forget that and instead teach me to appreciate good old fashioned rock and roll again. The kind of rock and roll that sounds like a Canadian motorcycle gang crossed the border illegaly, slept on Chuck Berry's couch for a couple nights, borrowed a couple of Willie Dixons old amps with busted speakers for their next gig, and beat up some Neil Young fans in the parking lot. That's not an insult, i'm pretty sure Neil Young beat up a couple of his own fans in a parking lot once or twice. What's that saying? I went to a fist fight and a hockey game broke out. They were born to be wild, after all.

It's the origin of the phrase "heavy metal," it's blues rock in all its variations with the gain cranked up, and goddamn the pusher man!

But on a serious note, not every debut album should be self titled, but every self titled album should be a band's first. It's specifically designed to say "this is who we are, where we come from, and what you should expect." Steppenwolf got that part right for sure.

I think i like them so much because they were proud to be a blues rock band, and they weren't afraid to play it as loud and brash as they felt. You don't have to like them as much as i do, so long as you admit that you're wrong.

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